He was Lucian Renoir,the man of her dreams and nightmares of over a year.
In her dreams, she had worked side by side with a fantasy version of the handsome physicist, sharing their scientific passions by day and indulging their sexual passions at night.
But she’d also had a recurring nightmare involving an equally handsome Dr. Renoir, where he was standing at a podium as she sat cowered before him wearing nothing but her underwear. He was lecturing her in front of an assembly of their peers, expounding at length on her inability to solve even the simplest equation. Her mother and father, and all her brilliant, successful sisters sat in the front row, their heads hung in shame.
But all her dreams and nightmares combined were nothing compared to Lucian Renoir in the flesh. He was even more handsome than she’d imagined: definitely taller, a heck of a lot leaner, and more rugged-looking than the man in the grainy photo she’d found on the Internet. It was the long hair and ripped body, she guessed, that had prevented her from being suspicious of having bumped into a fellow physicist in the unlikely town of Go Back Cove.
That’s why it felt as though she’d taken a punch in the gut this morning, when she had read the name on the card Fiona had left him. Having grown quite fond of Luke as they’d recuperated together, and finding herself more and more sexually attracted to him with each passing day, she had actually started weaving fantasies of following him home at the end of his sabbatical. She better than anyone could handle being ignored when he got involved at his lab, and she had hoped his passion for his work might actually rub off on her, and maybe even nudge her back into the game.
But he wasn’t good old Luke Pascal, was he?
He was Lucian Renoir. Which brought her right back to her nightmare of sitting cowering on a stage instead of realizing her dream of spending her days in his lab and her nights in his bed.
They reached the porch steps, and Luke picked up the gaily wrapped box that Fiona had left with the cards on the kitchen table, before the girl had vanished as mysteriously as she had appeared only a week ago.
He held the gift out to her, but Camry shoved her hands in her pockets. “It’s addressed to both of us,” she said. “You open it.”
He tucked it under his arm, gathered up the cards that had blown into the tall grass, then walked up the stairs and held open the door. Camry preceded him inside and went directly to her bedroom, closed and locked the door, then threw herself down on the bed and burst into tears.
Luke stood leaning against the kitchen counter, sipping his third beer from the six-pack he’d found in the fridge, and stared at the box he’d placed on the table along with Fiona’s two cards. He just didn’t feel right opening the gift without Camry.
He hadn’t felt right about reading the note Fiona had left her, either, but since he was already flying down the slippery slope of deceit, he’d read it anyway. He’d actually chuckled, despite feeling like hell, when he discovered the romantic teenager had left Camry a note almost identical to his.
Just as short and idealistic, the young girl’s note had asked Camry not to give up on him,and she’d echoed that they were each other’s miracle. The only deviation had been that Fiona had finished Camry’s note by saying that she’d see her favorite auntienext week, on the winter solstice.
Luke twisted off the cap on another beer and took a long swig. Christ, the house felt empty without the brat and the mutts. The gut-wrenching sobs coming from the bedroom—which hadn’t stopped until he’d heard the shower turn on twenty minutes ago—were the only reminder he wasn’t alone.
He honest to God didn’t know what to do. His heart ached to see Camry happy, but he couldn’t figure out how to make that happen. And he didn’t have a clue what he could say to help her find the courage to face her parents. Hell, he was about as much help as were the cryptic notes that Fiona had left them.
A miracle? What in hell did the girl mean, they were each other’s miracle? They’d screwed up their own lives so badly, he questioned if they were even competent to babysit the dogs.
Luke straightened when he heard the bedroom door open. He quickly shoved his empty beer bottles back in the holder and put everything back in the fridge except the one he was drinking. But then he grabbed one of the full bottles and set it on the table, and had just made it back to lean against the counter when Camry walked into the kitchen.
She sat down, folded her hands on the table, took a deep breath, and looked at him. “Okay, I’m ready. You can begin,” she said, her voice husky. She suddenly held up her hand when he tried to speak. “Only I wish you’d keep it under an hour, because I still have some thinking to do.”
“Um . . . begin what?”
“The lecture you’ve been dying to give me ever since you arrived in Go Back Cove,” she said, her tone implying he was a bit dense for making her state the obvious.
“I’ve been dying to give you a lecture?” he repeated, feelingdense. “About what?” He suddenly stiffened. “You want me to lecture you about the mistake in your equation? Camry, I told you, I don’t give a flying damn about that anymore.”
She gaped at him.
He sighed. “Okay, look. If you want to talk about it we can, but some other time. Right now I’d rather hear from you.” He took a swig of liquid courage, then looked back at her. “I really need to know how things stand between us, because I really need for you not to shut me out.”
She snapped her mouth closed, opened it several times, as if she were searching for words, then finally whispered, “Are you for real?”
Luke shifted uneasily, then suddenly flinched when she shot out of her chair and rushed up to him. He sucked in his breath when she just as suddenly shoved on his belly at the same time as she pulled out his belt and looked down his pants!
He sidestepped away in alarm. “What areyou doing?”
“I’m looking to see if you still have your balls.”
“My what!” he yelped, stepping even farther away.
She walked back to her chair, sat down, and folded her hands on the table again. “Don’t worry, they’re still there. So let’s get on with it, okay? I told you, I still have some thinking to do.”
“Get on with what?” he growled, tugging one pants leg.
“Your lecture.”
Luke sighed, long and loud and heartfelt. “Will you please tell me what I’m supposed to be lecturing you on?”
“On what a selfish, inconsiderate daughter I am. While you’re expounding on what a no-good rotten liar I am, you might as well get in a few licks on my cowardice.”
The lightbulb finally clicked on, and Luke went utterly still, then collapsed into the chair opposite her. “Camry,” he said softly. “There is nothing I can or would say to you that you can’t or haven’t already said to yourself.”
She was back to gaping at him.
He shook his head. “You’ve obviously been beating yourself up over this for an entire year; I’m not about to beat up on you, too.” He covered her hands with one of his. “But I can be a damn good team player. You do as much thinking as you need to, but while you’re at it, try to think of how I can help you. Whatever course of action you decide on, I’m with you one hundred percent.”
“Why?”
He reared back, not having seen that particular question coming.
“Why don’t you just walk away?” she elaborated. “Because you said it yourself, this really is none of your business.”
“Well, it isn’t,” he agreed, choosing his words carefully. “Or it wasn’t until . . . sometime around Tuesday, I figure.”
“What happened on Tuesday?”
“I fell head over heels in lust with you.”
It was her turn to rear back, and, yup, she was gaping at him again.